


Fever Dreams

by geraineon



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 11:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19084078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geraineon/pseuds/geraineon
Summary: Reinhard has a fever and dreams about his friend (alternatively, Reinhard is sad in the metaphorical rain)Spoilers for Episode 26





	Fever Dreams

When Reinhard opened his eyes, he knew immediately that he was not on Brünhild. Natural sunlight was streaming through the gap in the curtains, an impossibility where Brünhild was. He stared up at the white ceiling. His head felt fuzzy, a little like it was stuffed with cotton. The last he remembered was the war council he held in his ship but he could not remember what had transpired after the meeting was over.

Nevertheless, the ceiling looked familiar. The bed he was on felt nostalgic. He closed his eyes and opened them again. Memories that had hovered just out of focus sharpened into clarity. This was his dormitory back in the Imperial Officer Academy. But that was not possible…

“Lord Reinhard, how are you feeling?” a very familiar voice asked, tinged with worry.

Suddenly, Reinhard felt that he could not breath; his heart was squeezed too tightly by an invisible hand.

It must be a dream. He was no longer Reinhard von Musel, an ambitious young man who wanted to conquer the universe and free his sister with his best and only friend. His friend was no more. Almost acutely he felt the absence of the cold chain around his neck. He reached up frantically but only felt his naked neck.

“You have not eaten much since last evening. I know the food doesn't taste very good especially compared to Lady Annerose’s, but you will not recover if you do not eat. I brought you some delicious soup from the cafeteria. Madame Mittereder was kind enough to make it especially for you today.”

It must be a dream.

But if this was a dream, could he indulge in it?

There was some rustling and a snap of the lid coming off a container to his right followed by the aroma of onion soup. It did smell really good; a lot better than the usual watered down fare at the cafeteria in the academy.

“Lord Reinhard, do you think you can sit up for the soup?”

Reinhard finally turned to look at his friend. He was almost afraid he would see the blood splattered over Kircheis, just like the last time he saw him alive in Geiersburg Fortress. Dreams are rarely completely rational after all, and he had his fair share of dreams segueing into a replay of that day. But Kircheis looked just like he did in his memory of their time together at the academy. He must have made some sort of noise, or something must have shown on his expression because Kircheis immediately set down the bowl of soup he was holding, and knelt down next to his bed. His brows were furrowed, and he was lightly biting his lower lip.

“Lord Reinhard, is something the matter?” Kircheis asked, reaching out to feel Reinhard’s forehead.

Kircheis’s hand was very cool to the touch.

The chasm in Reinhard’s heart was yearning for more contact, but he could not bring himself to reach out for his friend.

“Nothing. I just had a bad dream,” Reinhard said, his voice a little rough.

“That is rare. Why don’t you tell me about your dream, Lord Reinhard?” Kircheis said. He removed his hand from Reinhard’s forehead. Reinhard almost reached for it, but he held back, and pushed himself to a sitting position. Kircheis repositioned the pillow behind his back. Feeling the proximity that he had missed so much, Reinhard clenched his hands into fists. He could not reach out; not with these hands stained with so much blood. What would Kircheis say if he knew that he had executed everyone above ten of the Imperial Regent, Klaus von Lichtenlade’s household? What would he say if he knew that even his sister had forsaken him?

Noticing that, Kircheis placed hand over Reinhard’s tightly clenched fist and held on when he felt Reinhard trying to pull away. “It must have been a very distressing dream.”

“I dreamt that you died. No, you did die and this is a dream,” Reinhard bit out. In life, he could not ask for forgiveness, not for the fight they had regarding Westerland, nor for choosing to treat him like he would any other of his subordinates out of his own defensiveness over the fight. That decision had haunted him, and in the darkest of nights, he would reimagine the scene but with Kircheis retaining his right to bear arms in his presence. Kircheis was unparalleled in his marksmanship even back in the military academy. He would have shot Ansbach before Ansbach could even retrieve the weapon from the corpse of Duke von Braunschweig.

“But I am right here now,” Kircheis said gently. “It must be a fever dream. Your temperature is still quite high. If you will just have some soup...”

“We fought before… before you died,” Reinhard continued, the words coming faster, harsher. “You were right, Kircheis. You were right as always. I did not do what I should have done. I knew you were right, and so I pushed you away. I had promised that you will be given half of everything, but in the end you were the one who gave me everything.”

Kircheis’s grip on Reinhard’s hand tightened.

“Lord Reinhard, have we ever disagreed for longer than a day?” Kircheis asked. “I am sure I have a part in making it difficult for you as well. For that, I apologize. ‘I’ would have wanted to make up with you but it is hard to buy Frankfurter Kranz in space.”

Reinhard shook his head stubbornly. It was just like Kircheis to take it upon himself, but if this Kircheis knew what actually happened, Reinhard was sure he will be disappointed as well. As if he was seeking censure, Reinhard continued, “I had a choice to save two million people from a massacre. I did not make that choice. That was what we fought about.”   

Kircheis fell silent for a moment. “Then I am glad. I am glad that you came to the right conclusion in the end. No matter what, I have always trusted you to do so. To understand,” he said softly. Feeling the tremblings from Reinhard’s frame, Kircheis settled next to Reinhard in that small single bed and wrapped his arms around his friend.

“You were not supposed to die before me. Kircheis, you said you fulfilled your promise to Annerose, but what about your promise to me?” Reinhard whispered, his voice low and vulnerable. “Kircheis, the world without you feels very empty.”

“I’m sorry, Lord Reinhard. I have been unfair to you,” Kircheis said. He held on tighter. “I never wanted you to feel that way. If I could, I would be with you forever. I do not regret dying but I am glad that you are still alive. I am glad that I was able to be with you until the end.”

As if he was doused by a shock of cold water, Reinhard snapped out of Kircheis’s embrace and faced him.

Kircheis was no longer wearing his Imperial Officer Academy outfit. He was dressed in his High Admiral’s clothes. They were not on his bed in the dormitory, but his bed in Brünhild.

“Lord Reinhard, every day by your side has been the happiest days of my life,” Kircheis said. “Please, take better care of yourself. The fever is real, as much as everything else here isn’t. I am sorry that you weren’t able to dream peacefully.”  

“Are you.. Kircheis?” Reinhard asked. “Stay with me.”

Kircheis smiled but shook his head. “I’ll be here until you fall asleep again. Please eat something when you wake up. And please remember to rest.”

“No, I refuse,” Reinhard said stubbornly. “I refuse to wake up to that emptiness you left behind.” As he said that, he could feel the threat of fatigue and darkness reaching out clawing on his consciousness. He dug his nails in, hoping that the pain will make him more alert but it did not stop the encroaching fatigue from taking over. Kircheis pulled him back against his chest.

“Sleep, Reinhard. I will be guarding your dreams.”

When Reinhard opened his eyes, he saw the familiar ceiling of his bedroom in Brünhild. It was dark, as it should be. The room was only illuminated by the light of his bedside lamp at the lowest intensity.

It was a dream. Was it?

There was a delicious aroma wafting from the entrance to the room. Emil had just entered with a tray of food. Seeing that Reinhard was awake, Emil’s face lit up and he hurried over.

“Emil, is that onion soup?” Reinhard asked, sitting up.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Though it is quite a common food, it should be easy on your stomach, and you mentioned that you do not have much appetite,” Emil said. “Would you please have just a few sips of it, at least?”

_Please eat something when you wake up._

Even in dreams, Kircheis was a worrywart.

“I’ll have it,” Reinhard said. He sat up, letting Emil help him into a proper sitting position. Emil fussed with the pillow a little, before arranging the soup on a bed tray. “Emil, when we get back to Odin, I will buy you Frankfurter Kranz. There is a really good cake shop where I used to live.”

He felt a comforting weight on his back, and the soft press of a kiss on the top of his head before that weight disappeared. He dipped his spoon in the the bowl, scooped a small amount and took a sip. Strangely enough, Reinhard felt that he could eat after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Frankfurter Kranz cake recipe if you want to try it: https://www.theomaway.com/desserts/traditional-frankfurter-kranz-recipe-classic/
> 
> It is the cake Kircheis bought for Reinhard in the Gaiden as an apology for returning late.


End file.
